And then Yael has arrived.
Sometimes a moment’s significance becomes clear only in retrospect.
The more I travel here, the more I feel confident about it. India is so different from Israel, but it’s a difference that has already become somewhat familiar. Walking in a market as the only foreigner, stare back, and order chai at a street stall – it’s already a daily routine.
My feet hesitantly taste the chilled sand. The beach is completely deserted at this time of day. It’s just me, the sand, the waves and the stars.
Mandrines are squeezed, horns are blown, chapattis are frying, betel nuts are chewed, fabrics are sold, chai is cooked, money is switching hands, prices are shouted and legs are marching determinedly.
‘No seats’, said the conductor. Since we could obviously see dozens of people standing in the crowded bus aisle, his declaration was a bit redundant.
I don’t require grand attractions in order to fall in love with a place
You don’t just travel in India. You breath it in.
It took me quite a while to get here. Years, actually. This is how it happened.
After two sweatful nights in Amritsar, we started the exhausting journey to Dharamsala, Back to the Himalayas. I had a nice routine in Dharamsala – the day starts with Yoga, followed by a Hindi lesson at Narinder’s, a nice Indian guy who used to be a mountaineer. Today he’s palayzed from the neck down due to a diease. Rajni, his wife, instructs wonderful cooking courses. One day, Shaked and I were climbing… Read More
We’re taking off. Three months in Nepal, and it feels a little bit like leaving home. We’re above the clouds, and Nepal says its farewell with an appropriate encore – an impressive snowy peak peeks between the clouds, with its full magnificence. Nothing compares to it. New Delhi airport. We’re standing in line for passport check, and I can already see the shiny duty free area beyond the clerk. It reminds me of the… Read More